Perchance To Dream
by Razzaroo
Summary: Julian has bad dreams. Emma may not be able to fight those off but she can ease the sting of them. [post CoHF, pre TDA]


_To sleep, perchance to Dream; Aye, there's the rub,  
For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come_

_**\- Hamlet**__, William Shakespeare_

* * *

Julian, Emma noticed, started sleeping curled in a ball after his father died.

Before, he'd slept stretched out on his stomach, arms crossed under his pillow. The blankets had always ended up kicked down to tangle around his knees and the sheets rumpled underneath him. Afterwards, he was curled in as if he was trying to protect himself, his shoulders hunches and hands held close to his chest. Even five years later, it was the same.

She slipped into his room after dark, when everyone else bar Arthur was in bed. He'd left his lamp on and it sent a soft gold glow across the entire room; while it did light the room, the dim light deepened the shadows in the corners. Julian had made a nest of blankets and was sleeping in the middle of it. Emma's hand found her _parabatai _rune and traced it with her thumb.

He even looked worried when he was asleep.

Carefully, so as not to wake him up, Emma settled on the edge of the bed. Julian only scrunched his eyebrows and burrowed closer into the mattress. The blanket was bunched tightly around his waist, exposing the bandages wrapped around his stomach over the claw marks left by a demon that morning. Emma reached out to trace along his bare shoulder.

_are you going to be all right?_

He didn't even twitch at the words she wrote out across his skin. Emma sighed and gently brushed some of his hair out of his face, stroked along the line of his cheekbones. Despite the worry lines that had creased his face over the years, there was still an open vulnerability to him in sleep.

"Oh Jules," she breathed, warm affection swelling up in her chest, "You're going to have a face full of wrinkles before you turn twenty five."

The horrible thought of '_if he __**reaches**__ twenty five' _managed to sneak into her mind and she quickly banished it. Of course he was going to make it to twenty five; she was going to make sure he'd make it to twenty five. That was her job. She traced along his arm again.

_i'm sorry you got hurt._

Julian shifted then, sleepily blinking awake. He froze for a moment, getting his bearings in the space between sleep and wakefulness; his eyes found her and he relaxed again, drawing his blankets closer.

"It's just you," he said, and his voice was thick with sleep.

"Yeah," Emma said, "Who else would it be?"

"I don't know," Julian's hand found the bandages at his middle, "A ghost. A stray cat snuck in through the window. That painting that used to scare me when we were little finally come to life to take my soul."

Emma patted the mattress, "No evil paintings here, Jules." She ran her hand through his ruffled hair, "He'd have to get through me first. I'd fight him off with a big stick and pour hot coffee on his head. You're safe with me."

"That's my _parabatai_," Julian murmured into his pillow, "Always looking after me."

Emma nodded sagely, "Of course; that's how it works. Arthur looks after the study, Julian looks after the rest of the Institute, and Emma looks after Julian."

"And who looks after Emma?"

She mock-pouted, "Don't I count as the rest of the Institute?"

Julian made a grunting sound into his pillow and closed his eyes again. Emma stroked at his cheek with one finger and her face softened.

"Did I wake you?"

"No," Julian rubbed at his eyes with one hand, "Dreams again."

"Ah." Emma hesitated, "Should I take my big stick into your dreams too?"

"You can try," Julian looked up at her with a smile, "Though it's all weird and scary and you don't wanna go there, Carstairs."

"Try me," Emma said, "What was it this time?"

He didn't reply. Instead, he rolled onto his side and showed her his back; that was all she needed. Not wanting to talk about it meant it was the one about his father, or about Mark, the ones they hadn't been able to shake for years. Emma had suggested asking Malcolm for help, which Julian had shot down.

She stretched out alongside him and wrapped her arm around his waist, tucking her chin over his shoulder.

"Do you wanna hear about mine?" she asked, "It might make you feel better."

"Yeah? And what do you dream about?"

"I was being chased by an enormous boiled egg," Emma said, "And my teeth were falling out."

His torso jumped with a laugh, "Sounds terrible!"

"It was," she said, tightening her hold on him, "Have you ever dreamt about losing your teeth? It is, actually, the worst thing ever. You'll feel like you have to check all your teeth are still there for days."

"Well, I haven't dreamt about losing my teeth," Julian wriggled round so he faced her again, "So I'm spared those horrors."

"Good. You have enough on your plate." She paused, "You sure you don't wanna ask about getting something to stop these dreams? Maybe you wouldn't be so tired-"

"No," Julian cut her off, "I can deal with it. It's not so bad; it's not every night." He worked up a small smile, "Besides, I don't think Malcolm would appreciate being treated like a sleep aid."

Emma dropped it. She bumped her forehead to his and smoothed out the curls that stuck up on the side of his head. Julian sighed and stretched out his legs, flexing his toes. He relaxed against her.

"You can talk to me about them," Emma said, "Your dreams, I mean. If it makes you feel better."

"We've talked about them enough, don't you think?" Julian ducked his head, "I'll be fine, Emma, really."

She stayed quiet as his breathing levelled back out into sleep and the fingers he'd curled around her shirt loosened. Emma pressed her cheek to the crown of his head and wrapped her arms around his shoulders to hold him close. Her thumb traced shapes along his shoulder blade.

_i've got you, jules._

Julian looked after the Institute; Emma looked after Julian, even though this was something she couldn't solve by hitting it. He felt safe with her, safe enough to fall asleep without coiling into a tight ball.

That was the way it should be.


End file.
